“Great goodness!” said Dick, nearly jumping to his feet. “Speak the truth now, Maisie, if you never speak it again! Do I—does this worrying bore you?”
“No. It does not.”
“You’d tell me if it did?”
“I should let you know, I think.”
“Thank you. The other thing is fatal. But you must learn to forgive a man when he’s in love. He’s always a nuisance. You must have known that?”
Maisie did not consider the last question worth answering, and Dick was forced to repeat it.
“There were other men, of course. They always worried just when I was in the middle of my work, and wanted me to listen to them.”
“Did you listen?”
“At first; and they couldn’t understand why I didn’t care. And they used to praise my pictures; and I thought they meant it. I used to be proud of the praise, and tell Kami, and—I shall never forget—once Kami laughed at me.”
“You don’t like being laughed at, Maisie, do you?”